


The Lightness To My Darkness

by EpiKatt



Series: Destiel Oneshots that I'm too lazy to make one book :) [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpiKatt/pseuds/EpiKatt
Summary: Castiel's in a band and has a slight.. drug problem, Dean finds out and they actually talk about feelings.





	The Lightness To My Darkness

Castiel wiped the white dust off his nose as he stood up, eyes dilated and steps staggered as he made his way over to the couch in the middle of the room where Alastair, Meg, and Michael were waiting, just as high as him. 

 

It was the afterparty after their past concert of the tour. Their band was called SkyRockets, and was decently popular.

 

Dean didn't know Cas did drugs, and Castiel intended to keep it that way.

 

What he didn't notice was for Meg to be recording him the next time he goes and sniffs a line, sneezing a little blood up afterwards.

 

He also didn't notice when Meg then sent that video to his steady boyfriend, Dean. 

 

But when he got home two days later, Dean wasn't waiting for him at the airport.

 

Nor was he at their apartment.

 

Castiel frowned as he walked in and set his guitar beside their bed. It looked like it hadn't been slept in for a few days.

 

He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Dean's contact and called him.

 

He went to voicemail after a few rings. A moment later he got a text, the only thing was the video of Cas taking the coke. 

 

Castiel's face drained of all color as he watched the video.

 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck  _ fuck!”  _ He yells, throwing his phone onto the bed and clutching his hair. “He wasn't  _ fucking  _ meant to see that!” He cries, hurriedly getting his phone again and calling Meg with shaky finger, shaky from desperation and rage.

 

“Clarence, nice to hear you,” she drawls, adding to Cas’ rage. 

 

“You fucking took a video of me and sent it to Dean!” He snarls. 

 

“Oh, this is about that, yeah, I did, I was high and you'd pissed me off about, well,  _ something.  _ Obviously, or I wouldn't have done it,” she says all of this as if it didn't just uproot Castiels whole fucking  _ existence.  _

 

“Son of a  _ bitch!,  _ do you know, where he is?” Castiel growls, pacing back in forth in front of his bed while running a hand through his hair.

 

“Nah, after I sent that he didn't reply. I wouldn't bother looking for ‘Im anyway, you can better, Michael's been all over you lately, Dean's a no good loser who works as a mechanic and doesn't even have a high school diploma,” Meg rants, trying to make Castiel change his mind about the man he loves.

 

“You better shut the fuck up,  _ right now,  _ or I will fucking throat punch you the next time I see you,” he says lowly. Meg thankfully listened. He didn't say anything and just hung up.

 

He looks at his watch and is relieved that it's during Dean's working hours, maybe he would be there.

 

Castiel quickly ran down the apartment steps to his car and drove to  _ Singers Locomotive Fixings. _

 

He pulled up and nearly cried at seeing the Impala. Castiel quickly got out of his own car, a continental and walked very quickly into the open area of the shop, heart beating wildly at seeing Dean's leg sticking out from under an old rust covered car.

 

He looked around, seeing that everyone must be on their breaks, and walked over to Dean.

 

“Dean!” He called, nudging the man with his foot.

 

The man in question jumped, hitting his forehead in something under the car. He quickly slid out and looked at Castielbwith narrowed, angry eyes.

 

“You said you fucking stopped, you  _ lied  _ to me. Castiel, you fucking lied to me, and about something like this, do you know how much that hurts?” he asks, voice rough.

 

“I'm so sorry, Dean. I did stop, for a while.. but then Michael brought some of his stuff and the temptation was so much… Dean I'm so sorry, I didn't want to ask for help,” he cries, hands in his already mussed up hair.

 

Dean started at him for a moment before standing up and pulling Castiel into his arms, hugging him. “I love you, you fucking bastard, and you will be going to some therapy, you need to get over this,” Dean says quietly into Castiels ear.

 

Castiel just sobbed softly into Dean's shoulder, the guilt of what he'd done finally sinking in. Dean rubbed his back and rocked them side to side for a couple of minutes.

 

“Shh.. you'll be okay Cas,” he says quietly, kissing his forehead.

 

“Can you please take the day off,” he sniffs, “I know this is stupid, but I just want you to hold me.”

 

Dean nods and quickly goes to find Bobby to request his day off. He comes back five minutes later and they both go home.

 

**________**

 

***bonus**

 

“Three months clean, Dean,” Castiel grins, kissing Dean snack on the lips, eliciting a surprised grunt from the man.

 

“Congrats, babe. Right before your next tour too,” Dean replies, holding Cas’ hips.

 

“Um.. about that.. I fired Meg, and she was our lead vocalist, and I've heard you sing and was wondering.. if you'd be on the band? You could probably ask Bobby to hold your spot open while you're gone,” Cas says, quieting once he realized he was rambling.

 

Dean just kissed him quickly, pulling away with a smile. “Of course I'll come, Cas. Don't worry,” he replies softly. 

 

Cas jumped into Dean arms and wrapped his arms and legs around him, hugging him tightly.

 

This was gonna be  _ fun. _

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this is a bit shorter than what I usually write, but it was sitting unfinished in Google docs for like a month and I finally decided to finish. So here it is, ladies and gents.
> 
> (Here is my [Tumblr](https://castiels-eyebrow.tumblr.com/post/174989603462/welcome))


End file.
